


One Man's Trash...

by Ononymous



Series: Undertale Anniversary Requests 2019 [7]
Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Pre-Undertale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 12:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21356167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: We don't think nearly enough about what happens to what we get rid of. To what the consequences of it can be. To where they might end up and what they might do once left to their own devices. When not even given the choice not to choose, what can a vessel do in another world?They can choose.
Series: Undertale Anniversary Requests 2019 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1486172
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	One Man's Trash...

"THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME..."

"AND FOR YOUR ANSWERS..."

"AND YOUR VESSEL..."

"YOUR WONDERFUL CREATION..."

**"Will now be discarded."**

"No one can choose who they are in this world."

...

Falling.

Falling in darkness. Who knows for how long?

Only time to think.

Why?

What did you do that was wrong?

The questions. Go back to them. Find the answer.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR CREATION?"

What had they said? What was the wrong answer?

"...hope..."

Hope. Hope is wrong? It's wrong to have hope?

But you refused. No. The creator thought of hope. Thought of you. It must be for a reason. Don't let go. Don't give up.

Falling lower, yet lower.

Grab that hope...

ENTRY 17...

That hope... those... dreams...

"VERY INTERESTING..."

...hopes and dreams...

**ERROR.** Discard process corrupted.

"WHAT- TWO- THINK-"

**WARNING.** Anomaly detected-

...stay determined...

* * *

No longer falling. Open your eyes.

Faint sunlight above you, beyond an eerie shimmering field. The ceiling is rocky. Lying down, no pain. Get up.

These flowers must have broken your fall. How do you know what flowers are? No answer. Look around. Cavern tapers off into a corridor. Nowhere else to go. Follow.

Floor surprisingly smooth. Must be in use regularly. People must live here. Archway. Clearly artificial. That emblem looks significant. Familiar. Its power shines- No, it fills you with...

Never mind. Keep walking.

A flower, all on its own. Almost looks like it has a face. Keep going.

"Howdy!"

Stop. Look down. Definitely the flower, no question. Not surprising, surprisingly.

"I'm Flowey. Flowey the..."

The flower stops. Looking at you closely. Suddenly angry.

"Is this a sick joke? What kind of freak are you?!"

Freak? Hope makes you a freak? No, you refuse.

"You're like me... you don't have one either."

One what? Was it discarded along with you?

"Were you born without it? I had one, but I lost it."

Something familiar about the flower. A name. Connection. No understanding why.

"So did you fall down just to mock me? First you humans kill me and then-"

You say the name. The flower looks shocked.

"How did-" Angry again. Vines flailing around. "I'm not _him_. He's _dead_. I can't be anyone but me. I can't choose who I am in this world."

The words remind you of falling and darkness. But here, they don't ring true.

"...wrong."

Beady eyes narrow warningly. "_You're_ wrong, sicko! Now shut up and leave me alone! I don't wanna think about back then."

You say the name again. A vine grabs you.

"Looks like I have to teach you a lesson! In this world it's kill or be-"

Fire. A shocked screech. The flower is gone.

"Hello?"

That voice is familiar. Look where the flower was. A goat woman. What's a goat? Concerned. Reassuring. Comforting.

"What a horrible creature. Tormenting such an innocent-"

The empty pity in her voice unnerves you. It's not how things should be. "Wrong."

"I am sorry?"

You know without knowing. "...not horrible. Troubled. If you knew..."

She looks confused. Buries it under sounding in control of the situation. Feels correct. "Well, being troubled is no excuse for lashing out. Anyway, I am Toriel, caretaker of the-"

You grab her waist, hug tightly. This feels right. Trembling. Face wet. A fuzzy hand pats your hair.

"My goodness! There there, child, you are in no danger. I shall protect you. Follow me."

You obey. Feels right to be near her. Someone is missing, not just the flower. That should be fixed, but yet it rings true. Perhaps later.

* * *

The Ruins, Toriel calls this place. Part of the Underground. Unlike that name with the flower, this does not unlock more understanding in you, but you listen to her explain. You feel used to it, despite having only just met her. She encourages you to make friends with the others. You hug a dummy. You were meant to do that.

"I must run some errands," she says, "you may call me if you need me."

You make your way through the Ruins unaided. The phone goes almost forgotten in your pocket. Other monsters ignore you as you pass, as if you weren't there. You speak to a few, and they reply. They're all rather friendly. But then they go back to acting like you don't exist.

A ghost blocks your path. Saying 'Z' over and over again. You sit on the floor, watching him pretend to sleep. Not sure how much time passes.

"Z... Z... Z... Z... oh..."

The ghost floats into a vertical position. "Um, thank you for being patient. I just wasn't feeling up to moving just yet..."

"It's okay." You continue to study him. "You're interesting."

"Am I?" He grows more opaque from embarrassment. "I'm glad I'm not a bother to you..."

Connections you can't explain are made. "You remind me of someone."

"Really? Who?"

The answer is spoken through you. "They would call themselves nobody."

"Oh... that's sad..."

Ectoplasmic tears drip from the blank eyes. They defy gravity and fall above him, pooling into a white blob. It twists into an ephemeral top hat. You smile uncontrollably.

"That suits you," you say warmly. "Very dapper."

The tears dry up. "Heh... Thank you... you're nice too..."

Your phone rings. You answer. "Child, is everything alright? You have not reached my house yet."

"I am fine, Toriel." It feels strange to call her that. "I just... made a friend."

"Oh, did you?" You can feel her heart soar over the phone. "That is wonderful! Well stay safe, and I shall see you later."

Your new friend chose to take that moment to fade away. You aren't offended. You understand that's just how he is.

* * *

Reach Toriel's house. She offers you a bed. Pats your head again. This is right. Rest in bed. Hear a music box plays a tune that is also familiar, but missing something. Don't Forget. Wake up to pie. You eat it. Throat tightens. You go to the living room to thank Toriel. She reads by the fire. Fire is wrong, should be television. But you don't mind. You feel safe.

You go to sleep again. Disturbing dream. A deep voice you know that you know tells you to stay determined. The vivid memory shine-fills yet again. You wake up and look around the bedroom. Tidy. Clean. Unused. This household is scarred, but those scars are natural. Unlike yours.

You stay with Toriel. Her light instructions to not venture down the stairs and beyond her house are strictly obeyed. You have no desire to stray from what you feel you know the best. She begins to teach you things, like she is a personal tutor. You accept the lessons without complaint, despite knowing the answer to everything as soon as she asks. Time passes. Toriel shows you more of the Ruins. Introduces you to more monsters. They are friendly when they talk to you, but like before when they talk to Toriel it's as if you were never there. Only the ghost, Napstablook, seems to remember you. Sometimes you feel as if you are being watched. You instinctively know who it is, but you don't trouble them. You catch bugs with Toriel. She smiles. She has smiled many times since she met you, but you become aware that at first it was forced. Now it is sincere, especially when she emerges from the basement with laughter in your heart. You know that she has found a purpose she has been searching for.

And eventually, you realise you have been searching for purpose as well.

"...and then you carry the five over to the next column, and after you multiply the seven and nine, you add it on, which gets you...?"

"Sixty-eight."

"Yes, my child! And then you carry the six and-"

"Toriel?"

"Hmm?" She looks taken aback. This is the first time you have interrupted a lesson like this.

"I want to ask you something."

She looks uncomfortable. She's been waiting for this? "I see. What is the matter?"

"...where are they?"

The question passes over her unacknowledged. She clearly hadn't expected that question. "Where are... who, child?"

"The others. The others that should be in this house."

You may as well have spoken a different language. "I... I'm not sure who you mean. I lived here by myself before we met."

You see no reason to sugar coat it. "But you were not always alone. There would not be a bedroom for me if you had always lived alone. And there's another room you've locked. This house is very large for a single person. Others used to live here. What happened?"

She clutches her chest. You've wounded her with that question. Grief twists on her face, but also resentment and anger. As unpleasant as it is to see her like this, it's also familiar. But all her expressions are far more intense than what you would expect. Her scars, however natural, are deeper than you imagined.

"...I am feeling tired," she said, clearly choked from the recollection. "Shall we leave this lesson for tomorrow?"

"...alright." You feel bad for bringing it up.

You fall asleep. The dream with the missing voice is back. You have it from time to time. It's more detailed tonight. Toriel's voice is there too. A third voice fills you with longing. The number six comes to mind. You wake up.

You've never touched the clothes, books and toys in your bedroom. They never felt like yours. Picking up a dusty frame with a drawing of a flower almost breaks that mental wall, but ultimately reinforces it. This house, so comforting, so familiar, so... close. But ultimately, it's not yours.

Emerging from that conclusion, you notice your thumb is translucent, the flower picture visible through it. You concentrate, and it solidifies, but it is the final straw. You are not supposed to be here.

But why should that matter? What matters is that you _are_ here.

You put the frame back down, and embrace that understanding. You don't move an inch, but you see all you need to see. Beyond the basement, beyond the Ruins, even beyond the barrier. You know what you were created for, why you were discarded. It was all for a purpose similar to this, but different. No longer feeling constrained, you answer for yourself where they are. You achieve understanding of why you wanted to know, and why that would ultimately never satisfy you.

But this is no longer about you. Toriel found purpose through you. You have found purpose through her. Through them. You owe her that much.

* * *

A few days pass. You take more lessons from Toriel as if you never asked her that question. She is clearly troubled by it, but acts as though she is not, so you return the favour. You lie with Napstablook in the leaves and feel like garbage. It is relaxing. You feel like you are being watched again. That is to be expected. You hugged Toriel goodnight just a few hours before, knowing what would soon happen. You are asleep. The dream is now crystal clear, like someone had recorded it. You understand what happened, and what was concealed from who. But the past cannot be altered. Only the future. As you wake from the vivid memory, you know you aren't alone.

"Hey."

You turn on the light. Flowey is sticking between two floorboards.

"I wanna ask you some questions while the old lady's asleep. How'd you know that name when we met?"

"...your name."

"_Was_. Past tense. Now I'm Flowey. But how did you know?"

"I know... a different you..."

"A different me? Ugh, you're like that guy who... what was his name, I can't remember..."

Such quirks of reality no longer constrain you. "Gaster."

Flowey looks shocked, almost like you slapped him. "That's him! But... _**HOW?!**_"

"I know... a different him... was discarded..."

He twists and turns, agitated. The risk of waking Toriel keeps him from lashing out however. "Alright, buddy, gettin' real tired of the cryptic trash coming out of your mouth. What's the hell's going on?!"

"...I know... but I don't know..."

"Well golly, ain't that convenient?" His stem twists, approximating folded arms. "So what's you're end goal here?"

You've known for days, but couldn't give it voice until he asked. "This house is wrong."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"This house is empty. You are empty. That should not be. Family must be restored. To be like the one I was made for. Perhaps better. To let the power of family shine within you... fills me with determination."

His beady eyes narrow. He clearly doesn't believe you. "You got the power to undo six or seven murders and a spare soul lying around, kid? You don't even have one for yourself!"

"...not my place to right this world's wrongs."

"Ugh, again with the cryptic crap. Why even bring all this up?"

"...this is not my story. It is theirs. Yours. I am a mistake. An anomaly."

"What, like the smiley trashbag yammers on about? Thought that was me..."

"The pieces are on the board. I cannot reach them all, but another can."

"Who?"

"Soon. They will come as I did, but it will be their story. You will help them help you."

"Only one person ever tells me what to do, bucko, and I got killed for them. I ain't helping nobody."

"Since when were you the one in control?"

Flowey freezes. Those words are familiar to him. Not to you.

"I cannot fix this world from here. I must go. I will find my own story. It will not be the one I was made for, but to take over another story is not the right way. When you and Toriel next wake, I will be like Gaster. Gone. But once I leave, I can leave them clues. It may take time, but things will be put right here."

"Suuuuuure. Good luck with that, freak."

"And good luck to you, Asriel."

There's a moment's anger, like he's about to attack, but he suddenly freezes. Then the beady eyes close. Asleep. You know he will wake up tomorrow, wonder what he's doing in here and slip out to where you first met him. Where he needs to be. A grey door appears next to the wooden one. As you get up and approach it, your bed is made as though you never slept in it. The dust on the drawing returns to its rightful place. As you step through the door you step out of Flowey and Napstablook and Toriel's memories, as though you were never there. Now completely unchained, your options expand, but you are aware your time to leave any influence is limited. Your impossible knowledge of his true identity kept Flowey from resetting out of sheer curiosity, and you had delayed him just long enough. They will be here tomorrow. You make your plans. A journal entry here, a skeleton's memories being stimulated there. Move a couple of things in an abandoned laboratory. Push a cloud in the sky so it starts raining sooner, to make sure they reach the cave at the right moment. Adjust Toriel's blanket while she sleeps, because she is shivering. Yes, this looks good. They will come and repair the catastrophic damage to this family, and you will be free to find your own.

You choose to be content in this world.

**Author's Note:**

> Original suggestion: Can I have a fic about the Vessel falling down into the underground through some sort of spacial rift?
> 
> Pastebin version: https://pastebin.com/ccGbSjpa
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
